I’m not a golf pro.

I don’t have a wall full of trophies. I’ve never played on tour. And I definitely don’t have a

swing that would land me on the cover of a magazine.

But what I do have is something I wish more beginners could see when they step onto a

course for the first time: A real story. A messy journey. And the guts to keep showing up

anyway.

I started playing golf as a kid, not because I was a prodigy, but because I was trying to find

somewhere I fit. Somewhere I didn’t feel behind. Somewhere I could be alone and still feel

strong. Golf gave me that.

But it also gave me frustration. Embarrassment. Shame. Rage. And this weird cocktail of

wanting to quit and desperately wanting to belong—at the same time. So I walked away from

it. For years. And then I came back. This time not to prove anything. Not to impress anyone.

But to fall back in love with a game I never truly let go of.

I wrote this book because the golf world doesn’t talk to us.

It talks to the high-performers. The die-hards. The guys who’ve been playing since they were

six. The ones who already believe they belong.

But what about the women in their 40s, 50s, or 60s who’ve never held a club and are finally

brave enough to start? What about the juniors who are quietly drowning in pressure and

performance anxiety? What about the new players who don’t want to be perfect—they just

want to feel seen?

That’s who this book is for.

I wrote this for every woman who said, “I’m not sporty enough.” For every girl who cried

after a round and didn’t know why. For every player who loves the game but hates how they

talk to themselves after a bad shot.

You don’t need a perfect swing to play. You need courage. You need honesty. And maybe—

just maybe—you need someone to tell you you’re not alone.

So let this book be that for you.

A conversation. A reminder. A safe space to suck, to swing, and to smile again.

I’m not a golf expert. I’m a person who gets it.

And if that’s what you needed today—then this book already did its job.